


Harry Potter and the Chamber of Drabbles

by QuinTalon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All The Tropes, Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2020-07-31 16:31:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20118139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinTalon/pseuds/QuinTalon
Summary: A collection of drabbles featuring various characters, situations, and pairings.





	1. Master of Death

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Many thanks to JK Rowling for creating an amazing world we love to play in. I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, they were just kind enough to help me out. They're awesome like that.
> 
> Prompt: post-apocalyptic au + Harry

Boots crunched through the underbrush, crushing the fallen leaves and twigs strewn upon the ground, as the wizard who wore them trudged forward. He paused as he heard a sound to his left, adjusting the worn, cracked glasses on his nose.

It was nothing, just a rabbit. He was tempted to catch it for his dinner, but knew he had miles left to go before he could stop for the night. There would be another he knew, there always was.

He adjusted the satchel on his back and continued on, his mind wandering to the past, to the moment it all went wrong.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He thought after the war, if he survived, life would go back to how it was before. He thought he could finally be happy, be content with his life. He never imagined the impact his actions would make on the world. Never knew what being the holder of the three Deathly Hallows would truly mean.

He didn’t realize anything was wrong until the day after the Final Battle. He woke to silence, the castle eerie and still. He had tumbled out of bed, still exhausted and drained but starving, hoping to find something to eat. He had wandered the halls, not seeing anyone until he reached the Great Hall. His heart still pounded just as painfully against his ribs and his stomach still twisted just as sickly now as the moment he had passed through the threshold into his worst nightmare.

They were all laying on the stone floor or draped across a table or chair, as if they had just fallen asleep. Eyes closed, looking peaceful. For a moment, he had thought they were all sleeping before he noticed how still they all were. How pale. A strangled cry had left his lips when he realized that they were all dead. Everyone. 

He had fallen to his knees beside the stiff and cold shell of his best friend—his first friend—his red hair dulled in the morning light. Bloodshot green eyes sought out the petite form of the curly haired witch who had saved his life so many times, her body cradled by the tall blond who had once been their enemy.

Finally, he had crawled over to the witch that meant more to him than life itself, his other half, his love. He wept openly and loudly as he pulled her into his lap, rocking her back and forth as he cried out her name over and over again. He never knew how long he had stayed huddled over her—hours, days, it didn’t matter. She was gone. Everyone was gone.

In the years since that day, the wizard had come to understand his role and how his decision doomed them all. If only he had left the Resurrection Stone in the forest instead of carefully pocketing it. If only he had given away the Cloak instead of coveting it for himself, a needless connection to his dead father. If only he had broken the Elder Wand instead of claiming it as his own. If only.

He knew now that the three powerful objects together did much more than bear the title of the Deathly Hallows. Together, they called forth Death, that unseen truth that makes all men equal in the end. That indefinable thing that now followed him wherever he went, no matter how far or how long he traveled. That unstoppable force that was now unleashed on the world, no longer fettered but free. 

No one survived in his presence. Men, women, young, old, strong, weak. It didn’t matter. One by one, they all fell. The grief-ravaged, shade of a wizard unable to save them. Unable to save himself.

Harry Potter was not the Master of Death. He  _ was _ Death.


	2. Look my Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Lucius Malfoy + College/University AU - I chose to do a Lucius/Narcissa pairing.
> 
> Shout out to NuclearNik for coming up with the title for this drabble. 💛

Shoulder length blond hair flowing behind him as he swaggered across the courtyard on his way to the Bodleian library at Oxford University, Lucius Malfoy smirked as he felt a number of eyes following his movements. As one of Britain’s most eligible bachelors—as well as belonging to one of the country’s oldest, most prestigious, and wealthiest families—he had his pick of women, and men if he ever decided to expand his interests. Adding in that he was called breathtakingly handsome by many, he often took advantage of the situation and was never lacking for company. He knew that eventually he would have to choose a wife in order to continue the Malfoy name, but he had time and he intended to enjoy the bachelor life as long as he could.

Pulling open the heavy wooden door, he stepped into the quiet of the library. He made his way through the stacks in search of a particular book he needed for a paper. He rounded a corner and stopped in his tracks.

Seated alone at a nearby table was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her long blonde hair was pulled over one shoulder, giving him a view of the curve of her neck, his eyes tracing the line up to her face. Skin pale and smooth like porcelain, her features were delicate and refined. Long lashes caressed her cheeks as she blinked, and Lucius found himself mesmerized by eyes so blue he was transported back to balmy summer days playing in the garden of Malfoy Manor under a clear sky. 

She was exquisite.

His normal self-confidence shaken for the first time in ages as he stared at the perfect creature in front of him, Lucius smoothed back his hair, straightened his tie, and walked as confidently as his nerves allowed. He pulled out the seat directly across from her and sat gracefully, a charming smile on his face. He waited for her to acknowledge him. And waited. His smile started to fade as the woman continued to read, ignoring his presence.

He cleared his throat softly, hoping to gain her attention. Her eyes flicked up to meet his before roving over his face. He could not help the smirk that spread across his lips as she looked at him, his confidence back tenfold. 

Until she rolled her lovely eyes and returned her focus to the book in front of her. Lucius blinked. Did she really just dismiss him without a word? Mildly offended, but more than a little intrigued, he leaned towards her and whispered, “Hello, beautiful. The name’s Lucius Malfoy, maybe you’ve heard of me.”

The blonde goddess merely nodded her head, not deigning to look at him again. Undeterred he asked, “What’s your name?”

She sighed quietly and closed her book, tucking it into her satchel. She stood and Lucius could not help but run his eyes over her perfect figure. So focused on her curves, it took him a moment to realize she was walking away.

He stood quickly and followed her outside, her steps quickening once they made it to the courtyard.

“Please tell me your name,” he called from behind her. 

She stopped, so suddenly he almost ran into her, and spun around. “Why?”

He smiled down at her. “Because you have enchanted me with your beauty.”

One pale, manicured brow quirked up as she smiled. “Get used to disappointment, Mr. Malfoy.” She waved cheekily over her shoulder as she sauntered away.

Lucius watched her leave, a determined glint in his eye. He would learn who this saucy woman was. And he would make her his. 


	3. Lemons Tarts and Kinship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Arthur Weasley + Narcissa Malfoy + Coffeeshop au (using a prompt generator and character selection wheel)

* * *

Arthur sat hunched over the table, his forgotten coffee clutched in his hands as he stared out the window of the little cafe in the village. He liked coming here. It was quiet, peaceful, and a comfortable place to sit and just be. No one bothered him. No one asked if he was okay. No one gave him those looks he’d come to despise.

He watched as a young couple strolled down the street, hand in hand. They were laughing at the antics of the two young boys running before them. A beautiful family out enjoying the spring day. 

Arthur closed his eyes as a memory washed over him. His hand wrapped around Molly’s as they watched Bill and Charlie running with glee towards Fortescue’s, Percy perched on her hip. They had just come from an appointment with the healer to confirm that their family was growing once again. They were celebrating by taking the boys for ice cream. It had been a perfect day.

The smile that had spread while lost to recollections of the past slowly fell as he came back to himself. Sitting alone in a cafe. 

His children were all grown now and had families of their own. He still saw them often, doting on his grandchildren. He was blessed with five so far. But his time with them was often bittersweet, the shadow of his loss lingering over him.

Tears burned at the corners of his eyes. He had lost his Molly three years ago now. Most days he managed. Most days he could pretend everything was fine. Today seemed to not be one of them.

Clearing his throat with a shake of his head, Arthur took a sip of his long-cold coffee. He grimaced at the less than pleasant flavor, not realizing how long he had been sitting. He debated getting a fresh cup and looked towards the counter.

A woman caught his eyes as she stood in front of the confection display, dressed in a finely tailored dress suit and blond hair styled in an elegant bun. She had an air of poise and refinement. Regal came to mind. She turned her head just enough for Arthur to get a glimpse of her face.

Narcissa Malfoy.

His breath caught, either in shock at seeing her in his little Muggle cafe or in awe of how beautiful he found her to be in that moment, he wasn’t sure.

He had not seen her in years. He knew she moved to France after the death of her husband eight years ago, rarely returning to England except to visit her son and his family.

His body moving before his mind caught up, Arthur found himself standing beside her. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and he greeted her with a nod. “Mrs. Malfoy.”

She politely nodded back. “Mr. Weasley.”

“Arthur, please.”

A small tilt of her head was her only response for a long moment. “Narcissa.”

Both still facing the display case, Arthur nodded towards the bottom shelf. “The lemon tart here is excellent.”

She hummed. “Yes, my daughter-in-law suggested that as well.”

Arthur smiled and raised a hand towards the young woman behind the counter. “Two lemon tarts, please.” He turned and faced Narcissa for the first time. “Would you care for anything else?”

She studied him for a moment. “Tea would be nice.”

“Then tea you shall have.” He placed the order then gestured to the table he had been sitting at. “Would you care to join me?”

At her nod, he guided her to the seat across from his, pulling it out for her. They were silent for a few minutes before he asked, “Are you visiting your family?”

The first genuine smile he’d ever witnessed from her spread across her lips, brightening her face. “Yes, I’m here until the baby comes. Shouldn’t be too long now.”

“How is Draco holding up? Still in one piece, I hope. Last time I saw him, he was hovering and worrying over her so much, she looked about ready to hex him into next week. I worry for the lad’s safety.” He chuckled, recalling the annoyed  _ Draco _ that had been hissed when the young wizard tried to add yet another pillow to the pile surrounding his pregnant wife.

Arthur had become extremely fond of the boy over the years. Especially once he saw how much the blond had come to mean to Hermione. She may not be his daughter by blood, but he loved her as such all the same. Her happiness was paramount, and Draco made her happy. By the time the two married, Arthur had been proud to welcome Draco to the family and call him son.

Narcissa smirked. “Yes, Hermione is quite a force to be reckoned with. Especially while pregnant. But somehow my son had managed to survive intact, despite his tendency to be a bit overprotective.” Her smirk softened into a fond grin. “He dotes on her as much as she’ll let him, though.”

“He’s a good man, your son. He treats my Hermione well.”

That bright smile was back and Arthur decided she should smile more often. “She’s been so good for him. He’s happier than he’s been in a long time.” 

Their dessert and tea arrived, and the two fell into a comfortable conversation. They spoke of their families, their hobbies, their plans for the upcoming holidays. Then the talk turned more serious and they spoke of their lives now and how they were adjusting to living alone after sharing so many years with someone, how they were dealing with the profound loss of a spouse. As difficult as it was to talk about, both felt relief at finding someone who understood what it was like. Over the course of the conversation, Arthur felt a kinship with the witch across from him and hoped she felt it too.

Hours passed before the discussion slowed, both noticing the sun on the horizon.

Narcissa stood, running a hand over her skirt to smooth out a wrinkle. “I should be heading back. I’m sure the children are wondering where I’ve wandered off to.”

“Of course. Let me walk you out.”

Arthur rose from his chair and offered his arm to her, smiling when she did not hesitate to accept it. They made their way outside and down the street to the Apparation point.

Narcissa squeezed his arm lightly before letting go. “Thank you for the tea and conversation.”

“You are most welcome. That was a decidedly unexpected but delightful way to spend the afternoon.”

Arthur was pleased to note the faint pinking of her cheeks as Narcissa turned to leave. Feeling a bit confident, he called out, “I’ll be at the cafe again tomorrow, if you’re interested in trying the cranberry scones. They’re almost as good as the lemon tart.”

Narcissa graced him with another smile. “I’d love to.” She spun and disappeared with a pop.

Hands clasped behind his back, Arthur walked home with a spring in his step.


End file.
